Page 50 of I Am the Messenger

As I try to keep balance, the Doorman sways, and I ask him desperately for help. All he can do, however, is sway and stare.

From the corner of my eye, I see something on the floor.

I remember.

The envelope.

It's fallen from my back, under the kitchen chairs, with all the Doorman hair.

I bend down and pick it up, holding it in my fingers like a kid holds something filthy, like a used hankie.

With the Doorman in tow, I retire to the lounge room and slump gracefully onto the couch. The envelope wavers, mocking its own danger, as if to say, It's only paper. Only words. It never mentions that the words might be of death or rape or awful, blood-filled duties again.

Or Sophies or Millas, I remind myself.

Either way, we're sitting on the couch.

The Doorman and me.

Well? he asks, chin on ground.

I know.

It has to be done.

I tear the envelope open and the Ace of Clubs falls out, with a letter.

Dear Ed,

All appears to be going well if you're reading this. I certainly hope your head isn't too sore. Undoubtedly, Keith and Daryl mentioned that we're all quite pleased with your progress. If my instincts serve me well, they probably also let it slip that we know you didn't kill the man from Edgar Street. Well done. You dealt with the situation in a neat, well-executed manner. Very impressive indeed. Congratulations.

Also, in case you're wondering, Mr. Edgar Street boarded a train to some old mining town not long ago. I'm sure you

'll be glad to hear of it....

Now some more challenges await.

Clubs are no snack, my son.

The question is, Are you up to it?

Or is that question irrelevant? Surely you weren't up to the Ace of Diamonds.

But you did it.

Good luck and keep delivering. I'm quite sure you realize your life depends on it.

Goodbye.

Perfect.

Just perfect.

I tremble at the thought of the Ace of Clubs disclosing its intentions. All reason tells me to keep from picking it up. Against all reality, I even envision the Doorman eating it.

The only problem is that I can feel it just beyond my big toe. The damn card is like gravity itself. Like a cross to strap across my back.

It's in my fingers now.